


Inflamed

by Menomegirl



Category: Angel: the Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-17 00:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3508103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menomegirl/pseuds/Menomegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reflection on a moment in time during Ats, season 2: episode "Redefinition".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inflamed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sweptawaybayou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweptawaybayou/gifts).



The flick sounds loud despite the noise of passing cars, the scent of lighter fluid thick and oily as he pauses to put flame to the end of the cigarette, inhaling smoke into lungs atrophied long ago, sucking until the end of the paper caught and glowed cherry-red. 

He shoves the warm metal into his pocket, leans back and exhales, holding the cigarette between his fingers and silently contemplates the end that burns as he waits.

Muscles tired, that ache the way they do after a battle. Normally there would be some semblance of an endorphin rush, a trip-wire of happiness, of expectation he has to carefully tread, least he be taken under from a false state of euphoria. 

But not tonight.

Tonight there's the sound of his nemesis approaching, the small tilt of his lips at the irony of the conversation that takes place before the door swings open and they walk in.

There's a hot rush of feeling at a maneuver well planned, well executed, about to climax to fruition as he watches the myriad emotions cross the fake expressions that hide who they really are as he inhales deeply one last time.

Small twist of his fingers, an arc of red sailing through the air and there's a small second of time where he wishes he could take it back, before the whoosh of air lights the warehouse up.

He watches as the panic with a stoic expression that quite belies the hardness and the roiling emotions inside. There's regret, yes. But he never does anything by halves-it's all or nothing but hope was snatched away from her and this is his answer to it.

The world isn't going to end in a whimper, he thinks as he turns away, not a whimper but a scream.

Darla always screamed so damn pretty.

He's missed hearing it.


End file.
